Just Desserts
by kathiann
Summary: Written for Lia Walker, what happens when Jane shows up at Lisbon's house to make her dinner? I hate writing summaries, oh well, please just read it. Will probably be a two shot. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** This story is for Lia Walker—it is her prompt. Hopefully she thinks that I have done it justice. I did promise her another chapter, so with any luck, I should have it done in the next few weeks. I know i usually update faster than that, but this paper I'm writing on the ethics of advertising and labeling is kicking me in the butt. I have no idea how to start it, why couldn't every thing be as easy as fan fiction? Thanks to Ebony 10 for the beta.

**Disclaimer:** Again, if they were mine I wouldn't have to write the stupid paper for the stupid class that the highest grade in is a B-, really very sad.

Teresa Lisbon was exhausted. It had been a long day at work. Who was she kidding? It had been a long week, month, year. It was made worse by that pain called Patrick Jane, always insulting people and making her life a living hell. At times, it seemed he did things just because she asked him not to. It was really too much for her to bear. Her team had pulled a weekend off and Minelli swore that he wouldn't be calling them this weekend. Even if the governor was killed they wouldn't be called until Monday.

Lisbon wearily opened the door to her apartment, locking the door behind her and throwing her purse on the sofa. She put her keys on the table by the door. She didn't plan on leaving her apartment all weekend, not even to check the mail—that would just have to wait until Monday.

She stood in the middle of the living room for a minute, trying to decide what to do first. She had eaten a late lunch and wasn't hungry so instead she decided that the first order of business was a long hot bubble bath with the new book that she had bought and never had a chance to read.

She decided to use her special occasion bubble bath: lavender and vanilla. The scent just calmed her and made her relax. She let the water run and made sure it was almost too hot to the touch before getting in. She needed the scalding water to dull her senses just for tonight. She didn't like drinking alone so she was left with this.

Her book had not been nearly as interesting as she had hoped so she ended up just setting it aside after a few minutes and closing her eyes. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until the cold temperature of the water woke her up. She quickly got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a large fluffy towel. She walked out into her bedroom and sat on the side of her bed. She fell backwards and lay the wrong way on the bed.

She sat bolt upright when she heard a noise coming from her kitchen. She sat still for a minute to see if she had imagined it or if there really was someone in her apartment. She heard the noise again. It sounded like pots getting banged around. Lisbon quickly grabbed her gun from where she had left it on her bedside table and quietly opened the door. She put her back to the hallway wall and inched down towards the kitchen.

She peeked around the corner and saw someone bending over looking into one of her kitchen cabinets. Not stopping to think why a robber would be going through her cupboards, she stepped around the corner, pointed her gun at the figure and said "I have a gun. Put your hands over your head, stand up slowly and turn around."

"Don't shoot," the person said. Lisbon recognized that voice. There was no way he could be in her apartment. She felt her arms dropping slightly, but held them steady when he turned around. "It's just me, Lisbon. Don't shoot."

"What the hell, Jane? Why are you in my apartment? HOW did you get into my apartment? I know I locked the door." She dropped the weapon to her side and stared at him in disbelief.

"Would you believe that you didn't lock the door? No. Ok, so I picked your lock. Don't shoot." He put his hands up above his head again as if to show he wasn't hiding anything. Lisbon noticed for the first time that he was wearing an apron.

"What are you doing, Jane?" She was tired again. All of the tension that had been released by her bath had come back when she saw him standing in her kitchen.

"When was the last time you had a home cooked meal? I don't mean home cooked at a restaurant, but cooked on your own stove by yourself or someone else." He smiled at her as he said this and slowly lowered his hands.

"I don't know, Jane. Why does it matter? Just leave. Ok? I want to spend a relaxing weekend at home. By myself." She went to put her weapon away and realized that she was still wrapped in a towel. "I'm going to get dressed. Please just leave." She turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Jane watched her go. He had never seen her dressed in so little before. She was always wearing pants. He had never seen her in a skirt and most of the time she wore jackets so seeing her in just a towel...well, he hadn't felt that way in a while, that was all.

He turned back to the stove where several pots were bubbling away. He was cooking her a spaghetti dinner. Ok, so it wasn't spaghetti. It was baby shells, but he liked them better than spaghetti. He was making his famous pasta sauce. Well, it used to be famous, but he hadn't made it in forever. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he was cooking it now. He had decided to do fresh green beans as a vegetable—she ate too many salads at work—and to round out the dinner, chocolate cake. He peeked into the oven and decided to give the cake a few more minutes.

Jane had been surprised by how long it had taken for Lisbon to notice he was here. He had assumed that she had been in the bath, but hadn't expected her to come out in a towel with her gun drawn. He felt that same feeling now—the one he had earlier when he first saw her in the towel. It seemed so odd to him and he wondered, not for the first time, why he had decided to come to her house tonight. He could lie and say it was because he thoughts she needed the company, but he knew she was just fine with being by herself. In all honesty he had just wanted to see her and knew if he showed up and knocked on the door she would just slam it in his face.

He was stirring the sauce, thinking, when Lisbon came back into the room. "Just so you know, I'm still mad at you, but that sauce smells heavenly. I suppose if it tastes as good as it smells I can let you stay until we're done eating _and_ you do the dishes." Jane gave her a little half smile at that comment.

"Anything you say, boss. Why don't you set the table? The food is almost done and I've done enough poking around in your cupboards." Lisbon sighed. She was going to have to try to relax tonight if she was ever going to get through it. It didn't matter that just a few hours ago she was still full from lunch. The second she had come out of her bedroom from getting dressed, she had smelled all the good food cooking and she just couldn't help it. She was starving.

She quickly set her small table that was in the "dining room" portion of her apartment. She hoped that Jane had brought something to drink because she knew all she had in the fridge was bottled water and milk that was probably past its expiration date. Almost as if he had read her mind, he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. "I thought this would go nicely." He said as an explanation.

Lisbon sat at the table and watched him work. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually turned on the stove to do more than just boil water. She couldn't even remember the last time she had used the stove actually. Had she used the stove since she had been in this apartment? She didn't think so. She was enjoying the view of a man in her kitchen. It felt nice, right even.

"Just because I let you stay to cook dinner doesn't mean that I want you to break into my apartment again. Next time you could knock." Lisbon said while watching him move around the kitchen.

"Ah, yes, but would you actually let me in?" Jane drained the pasta and started to dish up the food. "I hope you like green beans." He turned around with both plates and smiled at her. "Let's eat."

Lisbon's first bite of the pasta was heavenly—the shells were tender, but not mushy; the sauce was spicy and sweet at the same. There was a spice she couldn't identify. The green beans were crisp and tender and she found, to her surprise, that she didn't need to add any other seasonings to them. She was actually enjoying the dinner. To her surprise Jane wasn't being his normal cocky self when she said that she liked the food. "I never knew you could cook, Jane. I think we should have you do the post-case pizza. If this is what you can do with spaghetti, I'm sure your pizza is great."

"I don't just cook for anyone. You really needed a home cooked meal. You eat too much take-out and frozen TV dinners." Lisbon just shook her head at him, looking back down at her plate. She was getting ready to pick up her next bite when she heard Jane gasping across the table. She looked up and noticed that he had his hands around his neck and seemed to be having difficulty breathing.

"Jane! Are you choking?" Lisbon tried not to panic. She was required to take CPR classes by the state—every agent and cop was required to—so she knew what to do, but she still got that heart pounding nervous feeling in her chest. Jane's only response was to nod his head and continue to gasp for breath. Not thinking, just acting, she jumped up and moved behind him, preparing to do the Heimlich maneuver on him, scared that it wouldn't work.

She pulled his chair back from the table and struggled to help him stand. It was when she wrapped her arms around his chest that she realized that he was actually breathing—she could hear it as her ear was pressed against his back. She released him and gave him a hard smack on the back. "That is not funny, Jane." She said, walking back to her place at the table and glaring at him.

"What's not funny? You saved my life." He was trying to look serious, but there was a twinkling in his eyes—the kind he only got when he was up to mischief.

"I could hurt you by doing that, you know. It's not really safe to do the Heimlich unless you really are choking. There's too much risk of injury." She was mad. Hadn't he ever heard the story of the boy who called wolf? She probably wouldn't believe him if he really did start choking right now. It would only serve him right if someone pulled the same stunt on him. They finished eating in silence. Jane felt a little bad. He was only trying to have a little fun. He hadn't meant to upset her. He would just have to make it up to her. When they had finished eating he got up to clear the plates.

"Time for desert. Just wait for me for a minute, ok? It will be worth it." Lisbon just nodded at him and picked up one of the bread sticks that were on the table. He hadn't actually made them himself. He had gotten them from the bakery down the street. Lisbon took a bite out of it as he walked into the kitchen to frost the cake. His back was to her the entire time and when he turned around to show her his masterpiece, he was surprised to see her lying with her head on the table in front of her. He saw immediately the half eaten bread stick that had fallen out of her hand on the table next to her. She was choking—no, worse than that, she wasn't breathing.

Jane quickly put down the cake and almost ran the few feet to the table. "Lisbon! Lisbon, can you hear me?" She didn't answer. He pulled her from the chair, much like she had just a few moments earlier, only unlike him she was dead weight that just hung there. He did what he thought were the right movements, but it wasn't like what happens on TV—no chunk of food came flying out of her mouth.

He had never taken a CPR class—he wasn't an agent or a cop so he wasn't required to—and was starting to panic. He tried to think about what he should do next. He laid her down on the floor and started to talk out loud to help him think.

"Ok, Patrick, check her pulse. Good, still has one. Strong, too. Breathing, check to see if she's breathing. No, no breathing. Chest not rising or falling. Don't feel any breath on my hand held in front of her mouth. Ok, now what? Mouth to mouth. Right, I can do this."

He knelt next to her on the ground. He had seen Lisbon do this in the field before. He knew that he was supposed to do some sort of chest compressions, but thought he would cut to the chase. She had a heartbeat after all. He tilted her head back and opened her mouth, covering her nose with his hand. He bent down and started to breathe into her mouth. It only took him seconds to realize that she was not supposed to be laughing like that. He quickly stood up as if he was embarrassed at what he had been doing.

"See what it feels like, Jane? It's not fun at all when you're on the receiving end of a joke like that, is it?" Lisbon had gotten back up from the floor now and was sitting back at the table. She picked up her wine glass and took a drink. He was still looking at her with disbelief. "Can't believe I fooled you? I've had practice."

"Whatever happened to not playing jokes like that on friends?" He asked. He was just coming down from the high of the panic and rush of adrenalin.

"Turn about is fair play. Now, how about some cake?" She was still trying not to laugh. She hadn't actually thought it was going to work. In fact, she was surprised that it had. But, looking at his face, the pleasure that she had felt from his embarrassment and panic started to diminish a little. She watched him cutting the cake and waited until he put the knife down before coming up behind him. "I'm sorry, Jane. I know it was childish of me to pull that stunt, but I just wanted to show you what it felt like to have someone you care about pulling such a stupid prank on you." She felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, but managed to control it. She didn't think he would appreciate it.

To her surprise, he turned around and pulled her into a hug. "Don't ever do something like that again. I won't be responsible for my actions next time."

She could almost feel him smiling against her hair and she just had to ask. "Oh, yeah, what would you do?" Whatever answer she was expecting, it was certainly not the one she got. It actually took her a few seconds to realize that the reason he pulled back out of the hug he had been giving her was so that he could press his lips to hers. It took a few more seconds before she realized that she was kissing him back.

"If that's going to happen, I might just do it more often." Lisbon said when they broke off the kiss.

"Cake?" Jane asked, not acknowledging what had just happened.

"Is it chocolate? Because you know I love chocolate cake." She decided to follow his example instead of saying something else about the kiss. "Let me get the plates."

Jane served up large pieces of chocolate cake and they both sat down to eat. "Wow, not only can you cook, you can bake too." Lisbon said after her first few bites of cake.

"I cheated. It's from a mix." Jane said with a smile. "I'm glad you like it." They ate in a pleasant silence and when they were done she actually helped with the dishes. When the dishes were done, Lisbon walked Jane to the door.

"I'm glad you came over tonight. I really needed this. Next time you decide that I need a home cooked meal though, let me know first. I'll make sure I'm dressed and I'll leave the door unlocked for you."

Jane laughed at the last bit. "Thanks for not shooting me." He reached down and placed a gentle kiss on her check, then one on her lips. "Goodnight, Lisbon. See you on Monday." He quickly left, pulling the door closed behind him. Lisbon smiled slightly and locked the door. This was definitely going to be a good weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: **I promised a second part of this one to Lia Walker ages ago and finally figured out how to work it today while attempting to figure out what I'm going to be doing in 10 years. I think I'll be trying to get a Ph.D. Thanks to ebony10 for being my beta, and to everyone who reviewed the first time around, hopefully you all like this one as well as the last one.

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I wouldn't be worrying about how I'm going to pay for a Ph.D., even though it's not going to happen for at least another 10 years (seriously, do you know how much it costs to get a Ph.D. in clinical physiology? It's not cheap.)

Lisbon walked into the CBI office building bright and early Monday morning with a slight bounce to her step. It had been a good weekend after all. After her eventful dinner with Jane she had decided not to spend the weekend holed up in the apartment. Instead she had gone for a run, gone to the gym and gone to church. She hadn't done that a while—it was nice. She would never admit it to Jane, but his surprise dinner was the reason that her weekend had been so wonderful, despite his little stunt.

The day passed by quickly with no new case. The team was reviewing old files and cases from other teams to see if anything new could be learned. It was nearing lunch time and they decided to order out so they could keep working. When the Chinese arrived, they all grabbed cartons of their favorites and dug in; still talking about the cold case they were looking at.

"It says here that we were never able to verify the alibi of the mother of the victim. We should look into that and see where she was the night her daughter was killed." Lisbon said, taking a mouth full of noodles.

"No," Jane started talking while his mouth was still full. He suddenly started to make choking noises and grabbed at his throat.

"I'm not buying it this time, Jane." Lisbon said, looking away from him.

"What do you mean this time?" Rigsby asked.

"He pulled this same stunt when he was at my place this weekend." Lisbon said, turning towards him.

"He was at your house?" Cho asked with his own version of disbelief. "I've worked with you for longer than Jane and you've never asked me over to your place."

"To be fair, I didn't invite him. He broke in." She said, regretting bringing it up.

"He's lucky he's not dead." Rigsby said under his breath.

"I almost shot him." Lisbon said with a note of amusement in her voice.

"Guys, I don't think he's joking." Van Pelt said nervously.

Lisbon looked over at Jane. He was turning blue around the lips and his eyes were starting to lose focus. Almost as soon as they all looked over at him, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped out of his chair onto the floor.

"Jane!" Lisbon shouted, rushing around to the other side of the table. "Rigsby, pull him up. Try the Heimlich on him." She said, giving orders. She would have tried it herself—she probably could have hauled him around if he were conscious—but with him just hanging there, dead weight, there was no way she would be able to.

Rigsby quickly hauled him up and preformed the maneuver on him. A rather large piece of chicken came flying out of his mouth, but he still wasn't breathing. Rigsby placed him back on the ground and Lisbon knelt on the ground next to him to begin CPR. She looked to see if his chest was moving or if there was any air moving out of his mouth. When she noticed that there wasn't, she began to give him mouth to mouth. It took only one breath for him to gasp loudly and begin to cough.

Rigsby helped him to sit up, patting him on the back to try to get the air moving in his lungs. As soon as he was recovered and sitting back at the table again, Lisbon glared at him. "What the hell, Jane! Didn't I tell you joking like that was going to get you killed?!" It was more of an exclamation than a question.

"I wasn't joking that time." Jane said, looking back down at the cartons of Chinese food still sitting on the conference table. "I don't think I could eat anymore chicken. Van Pelt, can I switch you for some pork?" He asked.

Lisbon just stared at him. "I don't believe it." She said, throwing her hands in the air and storming off to her office.

"What's gotten into her?" Jane asked with a smirk. The others just shook their heads at him and went back to their food. Jane just shrugged, glancing at the food on the table and then picking up the carton of food that Lisbon had left sitting there.

He knew that he should be more concerned about what had happened, but really all he could focus on was the look on Lisbon's face when he had started to breathe again—the look of relief on her face far outweighed anything else going on. He just sat there, eating Lisbon's food and staring off into space, thinking.

He hadn't expected her to react that way. Really, who knew that she cared that much? He couldn't understand why the rest of the team was just looking at him in disbelief. She had scared him half to death herself and _he_ wasn't sulking in a corner. He never would have figured that if he were choking for real her reaction to him _not _dying would be anger. Of course, anger was something that she was really good at so that would explain it. The real question, of course, was what emotion she was covering up with the anger. Was it fear or anxiety? Or maybe, just maybe, it was something deeper. Something like love. Maybe.


End file.
